Anywhere
by dullahan21
Summary: He didn't want a second mouth to feed, and she didn't want a babysitter. Yet he was tired of traveling the streets in solitude, and she was barely getting by on her own. AU
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMERS: Bleach is owned by Tite Kubo.  
**

* * *

The moon was full and bright, just barely visible through the thin clouds. The air was cold from the winter chill. Coyote Starrk predicted it would snow tonight as he shivered and wrapped the patchy dark grey blanket tighter around him.

The alley he rested in was filthy, and the smell was rancid. Starrk didn't care much. It wasn't the stench that bothered him. This alley was empty, unoccupied by anyone else. It was his and his only. There was no one else for him to worry about. He told himself that was the way he preferred it.

No, it was the people he was wary of. Not just the gangs and the higher-ups of society, but the rest of the homeless population. He lived in a constant struggle with them every day for food, territory, and shelter.

He could never be sure when his next meal would be, how long he could stay in one place without being driven out, if his alley would still be undisturbed when he returned to it each night.

His stomach felt hollow, empty. He didn't feel hungry though. He never did. His thin body was so accustomed to being malnourished that he just didn't feel the hunger anymore.

As much as he needed sleep, he hardly ever felt tired either. He wasn't sure why. All he could say was that he knew he wouldn't be getting any rest tonight. He couldn't risk it in the cold with a chance of snow. Hypothermia could so easily set in, and that would be the end of Coyote Starrk.

Just as he thought this, a tiny ball of white fell past his face as he stood. He felt stiff from lying in one position for so long, so he stayed in place for a moment, watching the snow drift down lazily from the dark clouds. For some reason, it calmed him. With a sigh, he adjusted his grip on the blanket and exited the alley.

He had no clear destination in mind. He just needed to move. Keep his blood flowing. It was his best chance for now of getting through the night. Maybe he could find a better place to sleep once the sun came back up.

The regular crowd of night people stared at him as he passed them. They took in the pale skin, the messy brown hair, the tearing clothes. He didn't miss their condescending, skeptical expressions. He ignored them. If they wanted to judge him without really knowing him, that was fine with him.

The snow fell thicker and heavier as he walked through Tohoku. The temperature dropped. The wind picked up speed. The chill relentlessly bit at Starrk's skin through his clothes. He pulled the blanket up over his head as a hood, then wrapped it around his body again, shaking off snow as he did so.

For awhile everything went smoothly. He didn't trouble anyone, and nobody messed with him, so he was left to walk aimlessly in peace. The snow ceased falling, to Starrk's surprise, though the wind and freeze stayed. He made another forecast that the snow would come back later.

There was a sudden commotion from one of the alleys. Starrk heard someone shouting a threat, and another crying out something in return. Curious, he took out his knife from the pocket of his jeans and went to investigate.

He couldn't really see anything at first, just a few blurred figures moving about arguing. Starrk moved forward, his presence unnoticed by the occupants of the alley. His eyes adjusted to the darkness, and he observed the sight before him, just visible by the dim of the moonlight.

The two men were the first thing he noticed. They were either homeless or members of one of the street gangs, he wasn't sure. Both carried knives bigger than his own. They held the wrists of a much smaller figure, holding in place an angry young girl who looked to be about ten or eleven. Starrk listened to their conversation for a moment.

"Listen, kid," the man farthest from Starrk demanded. "I'll ask you one last time. Give us your money!"

"I'd be happy to slit your throat if you refuse," the second man growled, his back to Starrk.

"I don't have any money!" the girl screamed. "What do I look like, a fucking aristocrat?"

Starrk was a bit impressed by the kid's bold attitude, as well as worried it would get her killed ten times faster.

"What about that pretty little necklace you're wearing?" the first man said. "Wonder how much that's worth..."

Starrk could just see the outline of the jewelry around the girl's neck. He watched as the second man reached out to take it from her. She jerked away from him, but was still held in place by their hands around her wrists. "Don't touch that, you slimy bastard!" she snarled.

The man paused for a second, then released her and struck her viciously across the face. The force of the blow caused her knees to buckle, and she collapsed, still partly held up by the other man's grip on her wrist.

Starrk decided it was time to act, before these men killed this girl and took an obviously precious possession from her.

He stepped closer to the two thugs. The man who had spoken first took notice of him and said casually, "Hmm. A new arrival. And just who are you?"

At these words, the second man turned to him. Now that he was face-to-face with them, he could see that they wore almost identical white outfits, probably representing some gang they worked for. The first man was short with dark hair styled in a bowl cut. The second was much taller, with long black hair and an eye patch.

"Hey, stop standing and staring, freak!" Eye Patch snapped. "We asked you a question! Now tell us, who the fuck are you?"

"Does it matter?" Starrk said lazily, unfazed by their threatening demeanor. "Here's your choice: let her go, and we won't have a problem. Any trouble, I'll be forced to kill you."

"Oh really?" Bowl said, smirking and placing a hand on his hip. "With what, your bare fists? Not likely."

"Not quite," Starrk said, and he held up his knife.

"Ha!" Eye Patch scoffed. "You don't stand a chance with that tiny thing! Now get outta here! This is none of your business."

The girl suddenly lifted her head. So she was still conscious. Good. She needed to be in case a quick getaway was necessary.

"Fine," Starrk sighed. "I really hate resorting to violence, but I guess you've made your choice."

Both men opened their mouths to speak, but were cut off by Starrk's abrupt rush.

He moved in his usual lazy manner, but he was quick at the same time. He took down the tall man first, swinging a leg out to land a kick to the back of his knees. Eye Patch swore loudly and lashed out at Starrk with his knife as he stumbled. Starrk dodged the attack and struck his opponent in the face with his own weapon. The man clearly had not been expecting to battle someone like Starrk; he knelt down and covered his bleeding face with his free hand, his groans of pain barely reaching Starrk's ears. Starrk himself took this opportunity to quickly finish the fight; he raised his knife again and stabbed Eye Patch in the back.

The injured man collapsed; even in the dim, Starrk could see the blood spreading over his white clothes. He lay there curled in a ball in pain, not a sound coming from him. Starrk glared up at the other man still standing. Bowl stood gaping for a moment, then dropped the girl's arm and fled without a word.

Starrk now turned his attention to the girl. She hadn't moved from where she'd fallen to the ground, her head bowed. She wasn't shaking or crying; she was just still, as if she feared any movement would cost her her life.

Starrk crossed the alley to kneel down next to her. When she didn't acknowledge him, he reached out a hand to place it on her shoulder. She jolted away, saying, "Don't touch me."

Starrk pulled his hand away. "You okay, kid? Those guys didn't hurt you too much, did they?"

She looked up and over at the tall man who lay bleeding only a few feet away and shook her head. Starrk noticed a mark on her face from where she'd been slapped. "No. All they did was ask for money. I don't have any, but they didn't believe me."

"What about that necklace?" he asked, pointing towards her neck. "Where'd you get it? Didn't steal it, did you?"

"None of your business," she mumbled, glowering at him.

Starrk decided not to probe the subject any further and backed away a little. "Okay, don't get so defensive."

It was quiet between them for a moment. Starrk glanced back at the girl's attacker; he was eerily still, probably having bled out by now. He returned his attention to the kid when she said, "Thanks for your help."

"No problem," he said with a shrug. "If you're sure you're fine, I'll be on my way then. Stay out of trouble, and try not to be out in the open at night."

He stood to leave, adjusting his grip on the blanket again and returning his knife to his pocket. He stepped past the lifeless body, and had just reached the entrance to the alley when the girl called out to him.

He stopped in his tracks and turned back to her. She stood and walked over to him. Now that the light of the moon was fully shining on her, he saw her clearly for the first time. Around five feet, skinny, pale, dirty light green hair, bright pink eyes, a new bruise on her face, barefoot, her clothes so worn she was barely covered. A strange appearance. Not that it mattered to Starrk. Most of those who lived in the streets had a common look.

She stared up at him coolly and asked, "Can I come with you? Just until the morning?"

Starrk thought about it. He really didn't need to hang around anyone else, even if it was temporary. He had a hard enough time looking after himself without having to worry about another. She could easily slow him down.

Then again, she'd asked to follow him just until the night had passed. Where was the harm in that?

He sighed; it wasn't like he could say no to a kid anyhow, a defenseless one at that. "I guess so," he consented.

She gave a small smile. Starrk pulled the blanket from his shoulders and held it out to her. "Here. You need it more than I do."

She took the blanket and wrapped it around her small frame, shivering from the sudden warmth. "Thanks."

She followed him as he continued his earlier walk through the street. He slowed his stride so that she could keep up with him. She looked up and asked, "What's your name, anyway?"

He glanced at her and said, "Coyote Starrk. Just Starrk is fine. What's yours?"

In a sad tone, she said, "I don't really have one, to be honest. I come up with one when someone asks, but that's it. I can't remember the name my parents gave me before I lost them."

Starrk glanced at her worriedly; she must have been living in the streets since birth not to have a permanent name. She was an orphan, too.

What a cruel way for someone to live.

"We'll find something to call you," he promised.

* * *

**My first time writing with Starrk and Lilynette. Hope I pulled it off.**


	2. Chapter 2

**After being absent from this story for almost three months, which I apologize for, here is chapter 2.**

**Thanks to icevomp, Michiko Burel, and yukiiarooo for the wonderful reviews :)**

* * *

Starrk didn't like building fires in the city, even in the cover of the alleys. It brought warmth on bitter winter nights, but it also attracted unwanted attention. Sometimes it was necessary, though. Like now, when he had a companion to look after.

The girl had barely spoken to him since the night he'd rescued her from the thugs a week ago. He'd decided to let her stay, at least until he found somewhere safer for her; he wasn't sure how she'd survived so long on her own, but after what had happened that night, her luck could very well have run out on her soon. He wouldn't feel right if he abandoned her to fend for herself again.

It wasn't so bad. He honestly didn't mind her company. She was tolerant to be around. She didn't whine or complain or make a bigger fuss than was necessary about everything like he'd seen a lot of the more 'fortunate' kids do towards their parents. He'd thought having another person around would slow him down, be a burden, but she helped out when needed. As the saying went, she earned her keep.

Now, she sat motionless on her side of the fire in the alley, staring at the blaze, as if mesmerized. The blanket he'd lent to her was still wrapped around her, tied at her neck like a cape. It hid the necklace her attackers had tried to take from view. Starrk wondered if the gems in the jewelry were real or fake, but he didn't ask. The girl had made it clear that it wasn't open for discussion.

As for Starrk, he was busy keeping the flames stable, high enough to keep them warm, but low enough to avoid being seen. He'd chosen an empty alley at the edge of the city, but one never really knew what kind of people could be lurking about. Lazy as he was, he took precautions. Now that another was with him, he couldn't go back to his original residence. It was too risky.

"Have you ever done anything like that before?" the girl suddenly asked out of the silence.

Starrk looked up at her, surprised that she'd spoken. "Done what?"

"You know, killed somebody."

What a bold question to ask someone you just met. Her expression was calm, and Starrk got the feeling that, because of her homeless status, she'd seen more than someone her age (whatever that was) should. He sighed. "I really don't like fighting, much less killing. But sometimes it's necessary. That wasn't the first time I've hurt someone."

She was silent for a moment, considering the man's words. "How long have you been on the streets?"

Starrk wasn't a particularly private person, but she was asking such personal questions. Still, he had nothing to lose, he might as well tell her. It wasn't like she could spill it to the entire world.

"Since I was nine. My parents were nothing more than the couple who gave birth to me. I left home as soon as I could. Didn't find much luck, though. I've been toughing it out here for almost ten years."

"How old are you, anyway?"

"Seventeen."

Her face was skeptical. "You don't look like it."

"Yeah, I know. I've heard that before."

"You look more like twenty-something."

"And how old are you, kid?"

"Thirteen. What did you think?"

"I guessed eleven or twelve. I was close."

She stopped for a minute, observing him. "You sound so tired. Look it, too."

"That's because I am."

"You don't talk much, do you?"

"Never really had anyone to talk to."

She thought about that. It didn't surprise her; most of the impoverished she'd met kept to themselves, for many reasons. Unless you were taken in by someone, came across a bit of luck, or were picked up by one of the gangs, you could mostly only rely on yourself.

"So you don't have any friends or anything? Family, maybe?"

"Not family," Starrk said. "I'm an only child as far as I know, and like I said, my parents weren't much of caregivers. They were hardly around, and when they were, I wished they'd leave. I don't think they even noticed I left."

She waited a moment. It was plain to see that Starrk had had a rough childhood. He wasn't giving much detail on it, but she didn't really need it to know by common sense what kind of parents he'd had. She didn't probe the topic; she'd feel like she was rudely intruding.

She wondered why Starrk was so easily sharing all of this with her. Had he been alone that long? Did he not care anymore? Did he somehow trust her, even if he didn't know her? Either way, she liked hearing about his life. It was interesting, and made her feel less lonely about her own.

She moved on, "And your friends?"

Starrk tried to remember the days he still went to school. He hadn't been in a classroom since he was nine years old. As for friends, he'd never really been skilled with the social scene.

He sighed and said, "Most people didn't like me for some reason. Maybe they thought I was a freak or a loser, or thought I was scary. I don't know. I hung out with a few people, but I only really had one friend. I haven't seen her in years, though."

"Do you remember her?"

"A little. Not much, but a blurry image. Her family name was Harribel, given name Tier. We were friends in elementary school, and we probably would have stayed that way had things been different. She's probably still living in Tokyo, halfway done with high school by now."

"Tier Harribel," the girl repeated. "That's a pretty name. I hope you find her again someday."

He hoped so, too.

* * *

The next morning was cloudless blue skies, the sun bright enough to blind, and it was only made brighter by reflecting off the clear white snow that had fallen two days ago. There was the ever-present winter chill, but for once, very little breeze. A decent day to run errands or just be out for a walk.

Starrk made his way through town. He was glad there weren't many people around; being Tuesday, most were at work or school. He caught a glimpse of some of the local loners in the alleys, but he didn't stop to speak to any of them. He didn't want to leave the girl by herself for too long.

Of course he wouldn't be out all day. He'd only left to look around for a bit of food and maybe some clothing for the girl. They had the blanket, but that wouldn't shield her from the cold all season. Since she was younger and smaller than him, she was more susceptible to illnesses like hypothermia and pneumonia. He didn't look forward to the possibility of having to take her to a hospital.

Yet when he looked up something caught his eye. In the middle of town, he noticed a group of people gathered around a booth that held three people behind the counter. It didn't appear to be fortune tellers like the usual; instead, from this distance, he could just barely see shirts, pants, jackets, kimonos, scarves, and other clothing items hung up on the walls of the booth.

He could tell why the customers were so excited, because printed on the front of the shirts and jackets were catchy, funny phrases from anime shows and films he'd never seen, but heard of. The kimonos and scarves were beautiful, the silk and cloth stitched together in very detailed, complex, and colorful designs and patterns.

Judging by the looks people began to give him, he probably looked out of place here. They weren't rich or wealthy at all, but they seemed to think themselves better off than he was. Like it mattered to him, though. He was just here to observe for a moment.

A few minutes passed since his arrival, and one of the people behind the counter waved him over. He thought about ignoring her, turning and walking away without a word, but his feet seemed to be leading him forward and he walked up to the booth.

The seller, a tall woman with long, wavy dark brown hair, dressed warmly in a white coat, jeans, and boots, smiled sweetly and said, "Can I help you with anything? You looked pretty lonely and confused over there."

He appreciated that she didn't comment on his appearance other than his expression, and her lack of a revolted countenance. He shook his head. "No, just looking. I can't exactly buy anything."

Her visage stayed the same instead of turning awkward, another thing Starrk was grateful for. She shrugged and said, "Oh, well, maybe some other time. We'll be back in the spring."

Starrk nodded politely. "Yeah, maybe then. Thank you, uh...?"

The woman held out a hand. "Lilinett. Nice to meet you."

He accepted the handshake, albeit a little cautiously. "Starrk. Good to meet you, too."

* * *

He returned to the alley a little while later with a dark blue kimono and two small boxes of sushi and ramen. The woman, Lilinett, had slipped him just enough yen to buy something from a different store. He was so thankful for her unexpected kindness that he was able to overlook the skeptical glares people gave him on his way back here.

The girl looked up at him when she caught sight of him from the corner of her eye. Her gaze immediately fell to the clothes and food in his hands, and she asked, "Where'd you get that?"

Starrk sat down across the alley from her and tossed the kimono and one of the boxes to her. As he set to work on the sushi, he said, "A friend helped me out with it. You're welcome."

She smiled despite her suspicion, folded the kimono and set it in her lap, and opened the box of ramen. "Thanks, Starrk. Damn, I can't remember the last time I had food like this."

Starrk looked at her disapprovingly. "You sure a thirteen-year-old should be using language like that?"

"Hey, it's no big deal!" she snapped. "You didn't have a problem with it before."

"Yeah, but there were two guys trying to kill you then," he defended. "That was the last thing on my mind."

"Shut it!" she argued.

"Okay, okay," he said. "No reason to get so worked up."

"You started it," she accused.

As they ate, he remembered what else he had for her. "I might have a name for you, by the way."

She looked up from the ramen hopefully. "What is it?"

Starrk, who finished then, tossed the box back into the alley and yawned. "It's the name of the woman who gave me a hand in town. Her name is Lilinett, but we'll spell it like L-I-L-Y-N-E-T-T-E instead. Does that sound okay to you?"

She took a moment to consider, whispering it to test the sound of it, repeating it in her head a few times. It was so pretty, and she was glad he'd have something to call her now, and something for her to call herself. She'd worry about a last name later.

At last, she smiled. "It's perfect. Thank you, Starrk."

He shrugged casually. "Don't mention it, Lilynette."


End file.
